


The Future isn't Always Bright

by SlaveToMyKeyboard



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Ok there's a bit of comfort now, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToMyKeyboard/pseuds/SlaveToMyKeyboard
Summary: Young Xehanort has seen what he will become, and suddenly he's not so sure he wants the future that's laid out for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This used to be my random collection of chapters but the first chapter ended up having a follow-up and I'm now writing a follow-up for that follow-up so :'D enjoy? (Also, Young Xehanort is mid-late teens in this AU, so he is the youngest in the Real Organization by a fair whack and is still technically in training in his own time)

The youngest incarnation of Xehanort stormed into the grey area and threw himself onto one of the sofas with anger only a teenager could project. Xigbar rolled his eyes but said nothing. Kinda reminded him of Roxas, only with  _ slightly _ more control and a much better poker face. Xigbar had taken to calling him Norty in his head, but he knew the kid would hate it, so he made sure to never say it out loud, lest he incur his wrath.

“Get back in the meeting room, we are not finished.” Ah, there was gramps to chase him up. Kid probably spoke out of turn - kinda ridiculous since they're all the same person.

“No,” was his very firm reply.

Old Xehanort took a deep breath, forehead creasing with a deep frown. “Young man you  _ will _ listen to me-”

“No!” The kid stood up glared at his future self. “You can't tell me what to do! Just because you're an older version of me doesn't mean you're better.”

“I think you'll find it does.” Gramps snatched him by the sleeve before he could try to react. Did they really not notice there was someone else here? Well, not that Xigbar was about to interrupt their little domestic… he valued his head too much for that. “I brought you here to be my pawn, to help  _ our _ legacy, and you agreed-”

“Well maybe I don't want to anymore!” He wrenched himself from the old geezer's grip, a crackle of darkness between them. “Maybe I only went along with this shit because you promised me power.”

“You  _ will _ have power!”

“No I won't! I've seen what it's done to you, to  _ us _ and it's fucking bullshit! If power turns you into some wretched old cretin with nothing but a grudge-”

A loud crack cut him off, though that was probably more to do with the fact that it accompanied a harsh slap to the face that sent him to his knees.

“You  _ will _ obey me, you  _ stupid _ boy.” Older Xehanort growled. “Now get up and come back to the meeting.” He turned and left without waiting, leaving his younger self still clutching his face, sitting on the floor.

Damn. Xigbar thought nobodies were cold, but that guy doesn't just take the cake - he takes the whole damn bakery. Shouting at a kid version of yourself? That's harsh. Real harsh. Xigbar frowned and stood from the chair where he'd been watching the exchange. He made his way over cautiously; Norty may have been a teenager, but he still outranked him.

But before Xigbar could speak, the younger Xehanort got up. “Don't say anything. I don't care. I don't need your taunting  _ or _ your pity.”

He was facing away, but Xigbar was sure he could see the glove that had been on his face glistening. He wasn't sure if tears or blood would be a better cause.

“Eraqus was right,” young Xehanort's voice was barely a whisper. “I am a monster. I always will be.”

Xigbar raised a brow even though the weren't facing each  other. “What you saying, kiddo?”

The boy inhaled, as if he was going to say something, then sighed and began walking back to the door. “Get back to work,” he mumbled. “Don't you want to be 'powerful’ like us?”

There was such bitterness in his tone, but he was gone before Xigbar could try to… Well, he didn't really know what he would do. Maybe make a joke, offer him a coffee, a little break somewhere so he didn't have to put up with his older self? He probably wouldn't take any of it.

Xigbar went back to his chair and his own coffee, trying not to think too hard about what he would do if he were Xehanort.


	2. Chapter 2

The castle that never was had never been a noisy place. Even when the keyblade wielder had been fighting his way through the ranks, you wouldn't have known of the turmoil below when standing upon the balcony. So peaceful, looking out at the stars. Occasionally, though, there would be disturbances that simply could not go ignored. When ~~Isa~~ Saix was returning to his quarters after the latest meeting (a rather disruptive one, for once) he found one such disturbance that he could only try in vain to ignore.

Crashes, crackles and sounds somewhere between cries and growls echoed from a previously unused room. It wasn't his business; likely a lesser nobody throwing a fit or one of the others having some sort of trouble. Xemnas or Xehanort himself would sort it out, or decide who would interfere in their own time. It wasn't his business, but Saix couldn't stop himself seeing if the door was locked, and pushing it open when it wasn't.

The room was only still able to be called as such because it still had four walls intact. Other than that, everything else lay broken and scarred with various magics, strewn in all directions like the wake of a hurricane. And in middle of it all, still hurling balls of darkness at a particularly stubborn (and as of yet the only unbroken) window, was Xehanort's youngest incarnation.

Saix recognised the tears that streamed down his cheeks as anger, frustration, the bottled emotions that had tried to emerge during their meeting. For a moment, he debated leaving the boy to it. Then he saw the cut that split one side of his face from cheekbone to jaw, fresh and sore and oozing blood to mix with the tears that no doubt stung as they rolled across it.

Xehanort was so caught up in his aggression that he hadn't noticed Saix enter, nor did he notice when he approached and eventually gripped him by the upper arms. That did finally make him snap out of it, if only to turn his anger on the only other person in the room.

“Stop,” Saix told him calmly, keeping a firm hold even as the boy struggled against him, growling like a feral creature. “Calm down-”

“Shut up!” He kicked out at the older man's legs, hands still crackling with dark energy.

“This will accomplish nothing-”

“I don't care!” He clearly also didn't care who heard him. “Fuck off! Leave me alone!”

Saix frowned, but kept his cool. Couldn't very well have both of them losing control. “No. You are a danger to yourself. I will not leave until you stop this.”

Something about that last part seemed to calm the young Xehanort, or at least make him pause for thought. He was still tense, still thrumming with darkness that threatened to overflow, but the senseless lashing out came to an end.

“Why do you care?” His voice was so quiet, it was hard to believe that he would one day be the driving force behind the whole organization.

It was also hard for Saix to think of an answer. Why _did_ he care? Did he want to stop the superiors from having to get involved? Did he want to prove himself? Or did the ache in his chest have nothing to do with where the boy had caught him with a stray elbow?

“It doesn't matter,” he said eventually. “But I am here and I am asking you to stop.”

“I _have_ stopped.” It was almost a relief to hear him grumble like a moody teen, rather than shouting in rage.

Saix gave a soft snort. “You have indeed.”

The boy's shoulders finally relaxed under his hands. _Progress_ , he thought, though he wasn't quite sure where he wanted this progress to lead him. He loosened his grip and Xehanort relaxed more in response, though his head still hung low and he seemed to be deliberately avoiding eye contact. That didn't matter, though (even if it did bring out that awful tugging in his chest, the same as when he saw Lea, though thankfully not as strong).

Then a little sniffle made him realise that although the fighting had subsided, the crying hadn't. Xehanort quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, hissing quietly with pain when he caught his injury. He was going to make it scar at this rate and Saix had the oddest urge to take him away and get him cleaned up (he knew facial wounds would bleed far more than others; it would be frightening, or annoying at the very least) but he quickly pushed that thought away. He shouldn't even be here doing… Whatever he was doing now.

“I'm fine,” Xehanort told him abruptly, stepping away from his grasp. To Saix, he sounded anything but 'fine’. “You can go now - and don't tell _anyone_.” The last part was more plea than order, no threat to force its adherence.

“I won't breathe a word,” Saix promised. He lingered a moment longer, for no discernable reason (not amongst the horrid cocktail of emotions that had decided to make a most untimely appearance), until he eventually decided that Xehanort would be better off on his own. Saix knew little of how to comfort him, or if that was even what he needed.

However, Saix had taken no more than two and a half steps towards the door, when something stopped him. Not something physical, or even a thought, or a noise. It was just a… Sense. A feeling that told him not to leave. _Not again_ , it said, _he's like you_. Saix glanced over his shoulder to find Xehanort just as he had left him; glaring at the floor, with fists clenched and trembling. He still had more emotion to give. Leaving him now would be… Irresponsible.

Perhaps it was just his loyalty to the superiors that made Saix want to stay. This Xehanort wasn't even that young, just the _youngest,_ which Saix knew he likely resented, but there was something about him that made Saix want to, to _protect_ , almost. No, no, protect wasn't the word. But there was nothing else he could think of. Whatever the name, he hoped it didn't get back to his superiors that he was showing weakness in such a way.

“You should leave so that the dusks may clean up your mess,” he said, turning to backtrack his steps and return to Xehanort's side.

There was silence for a few breaths - a tangible silence that needed to be cut, either gently with a whisper or shattered by an outburst. To Saix's great surprise, Xehanort's eventual reply did not come in the form of the latter. That didn't stop it shattering something else, though...

“Please don't leave me, Isa.”

His whisper was like a stab to the heart, somewhat dulled, but still something Saix almost regretted being able to feel. Only regret because it meant he couldn't just walk always and leave the boy - who, when he turned, eyes still on the floor, suddenly looked so, so young and so very tired - to his own misery. He was one of the only members of the organisation who could really, truly feel, who didn't yet know what it was like to be without a heart. Saix could only imagine how it would feel.

“I don't want to be here anymore,” Xehanort mumbled eventually.

“You are here for a reason-”

Xehanort's exhale interrupted him. He was clearly trying to stay calm. “But I don't _want_ to be,” he said through gritted teeth. “I _want_ to go back to my own time and forget that I'm going to become some bitter old man-” he cut himself off with a sharp sniff, eyes squeezing shut to fight more tears. Saix was impressed that two deep breaths was all he needed to compose himself. “I just want to go home, to _him_. I don't even care if he hates me...” Xehanort trailed off, tears falling slowly and silently once more.

Saix tilted his head slightly in confusion, but didn't press the matter further. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen anyone in an organisation thirteen coat looking so very, truly vulnerable. He didn't know what to do, or what to say. He could only state the truth.

“Once the superiors achieve their goals, you will be able to return,” he assured him. “To forget.”

Xehanort nodded, slow and despondent. All of his energy had gone into expressing his emotions, so much so that he barely had any left to talk about what caused them. It was probably for the best; Saix was a very poor excuse for a therapist and rest often had a way of clearing the mind.

“I shall tell the others you are retiring for the night.” Saix put a hand behind the boy, gently guiding him to the door. “And I shall send for the dusks to clean the room.”

More silent nods were all he got in response. Xehanort wandered back to his own quarters like a husk on auto-pilot, staring blankly forward with his arms hanging at his sides. Saix knew it wasn't a permanent fix, but he breathed a sigh of relief that he had averted a potential crisis.

The next morning, Xehanort was back to his usual self. Snarky, cold, a lust for power. It was as if the boy Saix had found tearing that room apart was a different person entirely. The only evidence of yesterday was the cut that marred his face, though it had already begun to heal and would leave no trace. The lucky one, Saix thought, though he knew from what Xehanort had said that “lucky” was perhaps not the correct word.


End file.
